


Where the believers have doubts and the skeptics have faith

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: AU maybe since Enjolras' parents are never described, Background story for Enjolras, Canon Era, Corinthe wine shop, Enjolras is human, Enjolras is not such a marble statue after all, Gen, Starts near the end when the soldiers come upstairs to execute Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7451884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras during the final moments of his death, indulges in a moment of regret as he thinks about his family. Grantaire during his final moments, shows clear belief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the believers have doubts and the skeptics have faith

**Author's Note:**

> Partly (very slightly) inspired by tenlittlebullets' wonderful short, 'Estranged' http://archiveofourown.org/works/1022410/chapters/2034119  
> and partly arose due to my unhealthy curiosity about Enjolras' family. Everything described about Enjolras' parents is my own head-canon. I've kept the part about Enjolras having any siblings slightly ambiguous, as it's never clear whether he is an only son or an only child as well. 
> 
> Alternative title could just as easily be, One where I wonder why I'm so obsessed with Enjolras. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

For a brief moment, before the soldiers of the National Guard climbed up the steps to where Enjolras was waiting behind the billiards' table with scattered, spent cartridges and broken shards of glass and chairs beside him, for just a split second, that did not disturb the turn of events of the universe, Enjolras' thoughts went to his parents and a little cloud of regret surrounded him for the first time since he shot Le Cabuc.

His mother was extremely beautiful with soft lips, blue eyes and long golden hair. Her debut into Paris society as a young lady from a wealthy background had turned several heads. She had attracted several suitors, even though she was not from the aristocratic stock. Those suitors were ready to do anything for her, even take their own lives if she would have suggested it. In those days, she was known for her aggressive fits of temper which arose suddenly and which were rumoured to match in extremity with her beauty. She was passionate, fierce and believed in things strongly. She had been at Madame de Condorcet's meetings to discuss women's rights and she had raised her voice for the rights of the poor, before her marriage curtailed her activism and restricted her to the duties of a hostess, something she never forgave her husband for.   

Her husband enjoyed a respectable position in society, due to which she was able to shield herself from harsh criticisms that might have drifted her way because of her habit of airing her strong views during discussions. He was a retired General who had served in Napoleon's army, a soldier much respected not just because of the principles of justice that guided his actions but also his leadership qualities. He believed in law and order, in duty, in the head of state's right to rule once he was in power. Though he didn't think much of King Louis-Phillipe he did look fondly on Napoleon's rule.   

He had two sorrows in his life, the first, that he and his wife rarely spent time with each other, the other was his son's estrangement from the family. He had managed to alienate the only people that mattered to him and he regretted that. On some occasions his wife would be perfectly civil to him, on others he would doubt, whether she had ever loved him.  

It was in his father's library that the son had first read The Social Contract by Rousseau. He had spent several hours of his teen years shut up in that library, devouring book after book, his pale skin growing even paler from lack of sunlight. It was with his father that he had first argued on politics and been taught how to speak with eloquence by imitating his mannerisms. They had a lot of arguments, mostly about the idea of a Republic which caused the younger Enjolras' eyes to sparkle with a gleam of passion but which his father opposed in strong words. He would praise Buonaparte, as his son had come to pronounce the name.  

The father often thought about his son and blamed himself for their falling out. He would have been content if his son would occasionally visit or write letters, but he did neither. If not for him, at least for his mother's sake, who he was sure, missed him very much, even though she rarely mentioned him.

Her son was brought up with love and care, as she thought, though perhaps she had come to wonder whether she had loved him enough, whether the fact that he had left and never returned had been something to do with her.

The father's eyes filled with grief. Perhaps, his son might write yet. In the autumn of his age, he desperately wanted to pin his beliefs on that thought.

The unwavering General, now doubted if he had been right in the causes he supported all his life, if he had been fair in his treatment towards his family. The mother had no doubts in her mind that the son would come back and her belief found excuses to keep her occupied. He must be busy studying and didn't get the time or he must be in the company of friends and could not write. Each day brought a fresh excuse for the mother to occupy herself with.   

For a brief moment, Enjolras' blue eyes went soft and filled with a mixture of regret and sorrow as their images flitted in his mind. He knew them well enough to imagine what their thoughts would be about him never visiting. But then the moment was gone and you could see the steely determination return in his eyes once again as the soldiers climbed to the upstairs apartment.

There was a palpable anger evident in the soldiers faces fueled by the rumours that the insurgents were mutilating their prisoners. Doubt fueled by rumours can build up into a terrible anger that rings with conviction. They did not intend to fight but to exact revenge. 

As Enjolras threw away the barrel of the gun and stood with his breasts thrust out, looking the soldiers straight in the eyes, the inadvertent effect was to cause a soldier to doubt his actions. He lowered his gun. He did not want to shoot at someone unarmed, someone who stood without any fear in his eyes and in whom the flower of youth and beauty shone in full splendour. The soldier debated whether such a man as stood before them could be capable of mutilating prisoners.    

It is thought that waking up after a drunken stupor leaves one disoriented, often accompanied with a headache and it takes some hours before the clouds disappear and un-ambiguity emerges. Grantaire would attest to that experience on several occasions. Yet, he woke up from his drunken sleep, with a clarity of thought and mind that he had never experienced before, for even when the effects of the wine wore off, he was in the habit of doubting himself and being reluctant in attaching himself to any ideas. He saw Enjolras facing the twelve soldiers in the uniforms of the National guard and he never doubted for one instant what his actions should be. There was a clear ringing in his voice as he shouted,

'Vive la Republique, Je suis l'un d'eux' and 'Finish both of us with one blow'

A slight quiver in his voice only appeared when he asked, 'Do you permit it?' Enjolras' gaze was clear and there was no hesitation as he took Grantaire's hand and squeezed it.

The guns hesitated, before ringing clearly in the morning sky. 

**Author's Note:**

> Madame de Condorcet is the wife of Marquis de Condorcet who was also referenced in the novel. Combeferre is supposed to be more influenced by Condorcet than Robespierre. Condorcet was involved in the revolution of 1789 though his views differed strongly from Robesspierre's and the Montagnards and he was arrested after being branded a traitor by them. He held quite liberal views and espoused many social causes in his life. His wife Sophie was both accomplished and intelligent besides being a beauty.


End file.
